Night Blooms

"When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom'd,

And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,

I mourn'd - and yet shall mourn with ever returning spring.

                                                                                            Walt Whitman

I went for a walk this evening and saw these flowers, the only two on a large bush. How appropriate. I saw a concert at the Royal Conservatory on Saturday night of a piece by a composer named Jennifer Higdon. It was a premiere entitled Night Blooms, inspired by the Walt Whitman poem  Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloomed. I don't often go to music concerts but the tickets were given to me and I do love poetry, as you know.
It was a painfully beautiful piece for piano, quartet and voice that explores "so many aspects of grief and loss", according to the program notes. I've been experiencing my own grief lately having had my heart very badly broken. It made me feel a little less lonely sitting there in the dimness experiencing those words & that music with so many other people. 
I walk when I am upset. It calms me. Sometimes I take my camera in case I see anything exceptional. These lilacs were especially enticing. The air was a bit thick tonight and one could smell them before seeing them. The colour in the evening light was deep and bruised. They have such a short yearly life span, lilacs do, but my, aren't they lovely while they last?

Day 7 - Yellow

Naturally, I couldn't resist this tree on yellow ribbon day.No, it is not an oak but it is spectacular.  If, like me, you are old enough to have fond memories of the Tony Orlando & Dawn television show, here is a musical trip down memory lane for you.

Little Green Socks

Just in time for the cooler weather I've finished a a pair of socks.  In fact, I'm wearing them right now!
These lace socks are a slightly simplified version of a pattern published in the Vogue Holiday 2009 issue. I just loved this merino/nylon blend from The Black Lamb in Port Hope.  I've always wanted to visit the shop in person.  Anybody for a road trip?


And...speaking of Little Green...enjoy.

Music To Knit By

As promised, here are some photos of the newly completed Damson. It has been re-christened from it's working title of Damson the Second, to it's official Ravelry name:  The Jim Croce Damson.  Odd. I know.  However, I spent so many happy hours recently sitting in my comfy chair with my old K-tel Jim Croce on the turntable and knitting this.  The long, long, final rows of this shawl were completed while humming along to Lover's Cross, I Got A Name, Operator and others.  This LP has been in my collection since I was a young teen, back when my entire collection was fewer than ten records.  It doesn't get taken out often these days, but when it does, it's played on repeat.  Such good comforting music.
Here's a sample. Enjoy.

Embarassing Moment #137

OK. On Sunday evening, I'm sitting at my dining table doodling and listening to Randy's Vinyl Tap on CBC, This is a typical Sunday night at my happening place. Anyway, the theme of the show is keyboard and well into the second hour, Randy plays Barry Manilow's Could It Be Magic as an example of blending of classical and pop. How cool is it that Randy Bachman - The Guess Who? BTO? Yes, that Randy Bachman - spins Barry Manilow on his radio program without irony or sarcasm? He just plays the record. The familiar opening Chopin chords send chills down my spine and I am transfixed to my radio. It's 1978 and I'm that girl, lying on the basement floor with my head between the speakers, listening to that song over and over again on my Barry Manilow Live album. I know it's schlocky but I actually believe in that kind of love. Someday, someone will feel that kind of passion for me, and sing "Come into my arms" to me. Baby, I want you now and hold on fast. I already feel all the joy and pain of that great love affair that I know, I know, will be mine.

Then of course tears are streaming down my face from the nostalgia of it all and then The Daughter walks in and rolls her eyes at me. She's used to this kind of behaviour from her crazy mother and walks right out again.

It's 30 years later and still no great passionate affair.

Fuck, it's a good song though.

Watch a clip HERE.